


Whisperer

by Nana_41175



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bond as a Kelpie, Drama, M/M, Romance, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:22:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nana_41175/pseuds/Nana_41175
Summary: Take care down by the water. There is a dangerous creature that roams the lonely lochs and rivers of Scotland. A conniving beast, it lures its unsuspecting victims to the water only to mercilessly drown them…After losing three agents in one day, Q takes time off from work to recover at his sister's farm and there he meets someone... extrarodinary.
Relationships: James Bond/Q
Comments: 62
Kudos: 125
Collections: 2020-2021 00Q Reverse Big Bang





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themuller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuller/gifts).



**Author's Notes:** Hey everyone! Here's my entry for the 00Q Reverse Big Bang 2020-2021! The fic is inspired by [**Themuller's**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuller) very lovely art below. I greatly enjoyed our chats, thank you, my dear.

And special thanks to my wonderful beta, [**Christinefromsherwood**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood), for her great comments and suggestions, as always! Surprises await as the story unfolds! Enjoy and do let us know what you think!

_Take care down by the water. There is a dangerous creature that roams the lonely lochs and rivers of Scotland. A conniving beast, it lures its unsuspecting victims to the water only to mercilessly drown them…_

[ _(Scottish Folklore)_ ](https://ebooks.visitscotland.com/ghosts-myths-legends/kelpies/)

* * *

He was having that dream again, the one where he was floating, weightless, in a world of silent, blue water. Such blessed silence. In here, he could hear himself think for hours. There was a shimmering orb of white light overhead, but he had no need of it, just as he had no need of sound, of noise. Of breathing.

He’d much prefer it here—so peaceful and far away from the restless pace of a tumultuous world.

He wasn’t alone. There was another one here with him. There always was.

Another being, with powerful flanks of speckled, blue-tinted hue and pale eyes the color of the sky, of water, gliding beside him, sometimes coming close enough to touch. He wanted to be with him forever.

Smiling, he reached out with a hand to graze along the length of smooth, muscled flesh and wondered if his hand might stick, melding inextricably with that body as the legends had it. He waited breathlessly for it to happen, but it never did. He was always kept apart from him.

Wait, he wanted to say as the being turned and glided away, down into the depths below him, deeper than he could ever go. Take me with you.

He opened his mouth but no sound emerged, only bubbles. And still, he showed no sign of drowning, just as he’d not drowned that day long ago, when he was all but seven years of age. They found him, soaking wet and barely conscious but alive, on the edge of a loch where his family had gone for a picnic.

He’d gone missing for well over three hours, much to the panic of his parents. He remembered wading into the loch and being carried away by the swift currents, and he should not have remembered being dragged back to shore.

But he did.

Take me with you. Please.

As always, there was no response, and now there was only silence and darkness. Now that he was truly alone.

* * *

Q came to with a jerk, feeling the train’s change in rhythm as it pulled into the station. He winced at the white glare of lights as all around him came the usual flurry of activity, of passengers standing, stretching and moving about, preparing to disembark.

Now that he was awake, the bone-deep weariness that had dogged him all these weeks was slowly seeping back and he longed to sink back into his nap. Perhaps he could catch a few moments of shut-eye when he was in the car with Melissa. That would save on the need to chat with his sister then and there, and god forbid that she brought the hubby with her.

They had two whole weeks to catch up, and it was not something that Q was looking forward to.

Of course, she was waiting for him when he walked out of the station, luggage in tow.

“Christopher,” she said as he made his way grumpily into her outstretched arms. Four years his senior, they had the same coloring—dark hair, pale skin, hazel-green eyes—but there the similarities ended.

She stopped him from leaving her arms with, “Here. Let me look at you.”

“You’ll be bored to tears with nothing but my face in front of you in the next few days,” he said shortly. “Now can we please go? We’ve a long ride ahead, I take it.”

“Well, you could have taken the plane, that would have cut the journey by half,” she said nonchalantly, her lips quirking.

“Lyse.”

“Sorry,” she said as they began their walk to the car. “It’s just I’ve missed poking at you. It’s been a while since you last had time off from work, and a lot longer since you’ve been at the farm.”

“Well, I’m here now,” he said, “and very much looking forward to some rest and relaxation.”

Lyse merely snorted and said nothing.

He kept up with the spiky hedgehog act because Lyse was being Lyse, prying into everything. Once they were in the car though, he deflated. “Sorry,” he said, gesturing vaguely around himself. “For this crap attitude. Work was… you know. Crappy.”

“Oh, well,” she sighed. “Can’t really say it’s any worse than your default sourpuss mode, so…”

He gave her a withering look and she laughed. “I’ve missed you, Tig,” she said as she turned to him, batting her eyelashes winningly. “What can I say?”

He felt the first reluctant smile finally crossing his lips as he said, “Me too.”

Lyse gazed at him consideringly. “You’ve not been eating right, have you?”

“Oh, for—!”

“No matter,” she said bracingly as she started the car. “I’ll have you plumped up like a partridge in no time. So…how is work? Whatever you’re allowed to share, of course.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s been one of those days. For a while.”

 _Three agents,_ he could not say. _Three double-O’s, dead in the span of six hours two weeks ago on Thursday._

And M, telling him, “You ought to spend some time away from here, and you shouldn’t be alone.”

“Don’t worry,” Lyse said, eyeing him sympathetically. “There’s no woe that these hills and lochs won’t make better.”

A tired chuckle escaped him. “I swear, Lyse,” he said.

“But see, I made you laugh!”

“Yes,” he said, smiling as he leaned back and shut his eyes. “You did.”

* * *

“You know, I dreamt of the loch again,” he said after the second hour and all the idle chatter had effectively dried up.

“Oh?” she said, concentrating on the road. “Which one?”

“Oh god, Lyse. Seriously, you can’t make me roll my eyes all that frequently in the space of—”

“Stop with the bad habit, then!”

“The loch, from before,” he pressed on. “And myself, in it.”

“Oh my god, Tig.”

“Only it wasn’t a nightmare. I could breathe underwater, you know?”

“Well, thank goodness for that, Aquaman.”

He ignored her jab. “And I wasn’t alone. That being—”

“Oh lord. “ Lyse sighed. “After all these years, you still believe in that thing.”

“Look, the only reason why I went into the water that day was because I thought I saw something.”

“A horse,” she said. “You’ve always maintained that you saw a horse, in waters that deep.”

“Well, I did,” he said rather defensively.

“It would have drowned,” Lyse pointed out. “You very nearly did.”

“Well, I didn’t,” he replied, almost snapping. ”It managed to drag me out of the water.”

“Look,” Lyse said. “We’re not going to rehash what happened more than two decades ago. So tell me about your dream of the Kelpie.”

“Oh, for _fu—”_

“Well, it is a Kelpie, isn’t it, if it’s something malign that takes on the shape of a horse and lures misbehaving kids into Scottish lochs?”

“It saved me, Lyse. It was the one that dragged me out of the water, before Mum and Dad even managed to find me. Malign spirits do not do that.”

“Well,” said Lyse archly. “Did it take on the enticing form of a man in your dream, at least? All tall, dark and handsome? A proper Scottish lad.”

“Okay, you know what? We’re done talking,” he said amidst Lyse’s hoots of laughter.

Much later, just when they were nearing the farm, Lyse said, “There is a loch. At the farm. I’m not sure you remember, the last time you were here.”

“What?” Q looked up from his phone.

“There’s a small loch—more like a pond, really, not twenty minutes’ walk from the farm,” she replied, eyes firmly on the road ahead, “And you’re going to promise me that you won’t be putting yourself anywhere within it.”

* * *

He was having that dream again. Only it wasn’t a dream but a memory.

In it, he was back in M’s office, a drink that M had poured for him in one hand as he sat there, still numb, listening as the man refused to accept his resignation.

“You forget, Q, that I was the one who authorized the weapons that you assigned our agents,” said M, and Q had never heard him use this tone before, gentle and extinguished of all inflection. “That responsibility falls on me.”

“I could have…” Q swallowed. “I should have…”

“We should have seen it coming,” M finished for him. “The problem was, we couldn’t. Not when the events were unfolding in real time earlier today. So, no. That’s not on you, either.”

Q watched dully as M stood and moved away. “They’re gone, Q, and we cannot bring them back even if we want to. These things do happen. The only thing we can do is learn from this set of experiences and make sure it doesn’t happen again. We’ll get down to the bottom of it, make sure there was no security breach,” he said. “I want you to take some time off, or at least work with Medical to settle the… issues, as they arise. And they will be coming soon enough, once the numbness wears off.”

It was still dark out, and it took Q a moment to realize that he was fully awake and staring at the ceiling as he lay in bed.

He was not in his flat, but at his sister’s farm, hundreds of miles from London, from Six, yet nothing could distance him from that awful day not long after that meeting in M’s office after he’d collapsed in a panic attack in front of everyone in Q branch during a difficult extraction for 005, after he’d repeatedly put off the Psych sessions and the meds.

So Medical had cut him off from work with a recommendation that he go on leave.

And now here he was, having had five hours of sleep--quite a record in itself-- and unable to close his eyes without seeing 003 die in front of him all over again. At least with 004 and 008, there had been no video or audio to record their demise.

He lay there for several minutes more, aware of his own breathing, of his room suffused with the quiet, blue darkness just before dawn broke. No matter how much he tried, he could not stop breathing, or remembering.

He finally decided to get up.

* * *

He’d not ridden in ages, but it felt good and deeply familiar to be on horseback again.

Matt and the kids had been very kind at dinner last night, and had not pressed him too much with talk regarding himself. Lyse had ensured it, he thought gratefully. They would all wait until he was ready.

Instead, he was regaled with the activities and goings-on around the farm, the schedules and tasks necessary to ensure its smooth running. They had plenty of sheep and horses, and he’d been given his own mount for the duration of his stay.

Until this announcement, nothing had managed to penetrate the dull haze of emotional pain and antidepressants that had descended upon him. Now, he felt a small tendril of pleasure creeping in as he urged forward his horse, a beautiful young chestnut.

It was drizzling outside and a fine mist shrouded everything, encasing the world in a soft veil. This early in the morning, everything was so peaceful, muted. Q knew he shouldn’t be venturing out too far from the farm, given that he was unfamiliar with the area, but his horse seemed to know where she was going, so Q let her wander while he drifted off yet again.

He was doing it more and more lately, lapsing into the past and doing nothing as it pulled him in.

004 was discovered in a mud track just off a country road such as this, several miles from a small Northern Greek city where he’d been ambushed and abducted. It had taken Q merely half an hour to track him down, but it was thirty minutes too late.

Two weeks and some light antidepressants had done the job of dulling the pain, but there was no erasing the memories.

When Q came back to the present, it was to find that his horse had decided to take him farther along than he’d intended. He could hear the sound of water through the thickening fog all around him, seeming to come from nowhere and everywhere.

It was not the most ideal of situations, he realized, but the sense of detachment remained, deadening his nerves to any fear as he gazed about him in half-wonder. Perhaps it was also because his horse was so calm as she continued to pick her way daintily through the fog, neighing softly, ears twitching at Q’s soft, wordless commands. He did not try very hard to rein her in.

Q was used to fog, or thought he should be, but living in London, with all its modern-day technologies and conveniences had managed to reduce its mystery into a harmless, quirky natural phenomenon—one that could be easily side-stepped just by entering a building or hailing a cab.

Yet out here, in the country, it seemed to have a life of its own, the way it could play tricks on one’s senses.

Insidious.

Just like now when, right in front of him, in the roiling white vapors, he thought he saw the drifting shadow of an animal, large like his horse, who had seen it, too, and was making her way unerringly toward it.

It could have been anything, really, Q reasoned as he was carried inexorably deeper into the white cocoon, which deadened sight and hearing. A cow, a horse, a beast of any kind, quite large and substantial.

But then it was none of the above, for what materialized before them a few moments later was a man.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Notes:** Hey everyone! Here's chapter two and the mystery deepens. Thanks so much to [**Christinefromsherwood**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood) for such a great beta, as always!

Enjoy and let me know what you guys think! (wriggles eyebrows at [**Themuller** ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuller/pseuds/themuller)^_~)

* * *

He came back to find that everyone had finished with breakfast.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said hastily as one of the kids handed him a plate with some bacon, sausages and eggs.

“Where have you been?” Lyse asked, concern furrowing her brow.

“I…I got lost. The fog…”

He shrugged, already expecting Lyse’s: “You went out riding in that?”

“I didn’t think it would come on so suddenly,” he replied rather sheepishly. “Anyway, I…I missed it. Riding.”

What he could not say was, _I met someone._

Still, he could not resist: “And I had help coming back, so…”

He kept his gaze down on his plate as he concentrated on putting some egg on his toast, aware that all eyes were on him.

“Uh huh,” said Lyse, skeptically.

“Yes,” he said, chewing carefully. “He even has a name. Bond. James Bond.”

Several seats away, his brother-in law paused with his coffee cup midway to his lips. “Oh, you’ve met James,” Matt said. “You must have wandered quite far then. He lives near the loch.”

Q glanced up sharply, avoiding Lyse’s gaze as Matt continued, “He works here as one of our foremen.”

* * *

After breakfast, he got a call from M.

“We’ve gone through some of the data and you’re quite right. There is indeed reason to believe that a security breach has occurred and our information was compromised.”

Q opened his mouth to speak, but M was ahead of him: “What’s more, it looks like an inside job. Hence the lack of any digital footprint, as you have reported. Whoever it is—”

“Knows enough of my systems to maneuver themselves around it,” Q said, mouth twisting in rage.

“We’ll have to start with your people, Q, one by one. So far only you, R and a handful of your personnel have been properly vetted. This will take time.”

Q sighed heavily. “Of course, sir. I can just get back to London. In fact, I should be there to—”

“There is no need to cut short your holiday as of now,” M continued. “Everything is under control.”

“But sir—”

“Q, may I remind you that you are not cleared for work by Medical. Technically, I shouldn’t even bring you into this, but I want you prepared just in case. R is handling everything very well, and I imagine HR would come to deliver a sermon right on my doorstep any time now about how you’ve not filed for any holiday leave these past two years. That just won’t do. So I’d advise you to carry on resting and regaining your health. I will summon you when the need arises.”

M gazed at him for a moment more with a pinched, almost apologetic look that Q imagined the man might use to mollify someone. Not that he could imagine M ever mollifying anyone, really. “So how are things going?”

“Fine, sir,” Q said rather stiltedly. Small talk was simply not something he did regularly with his boss.

Then, though he didn’t particularly want to add to the awkwardness, but, seeing as he had to make his case a bit more convincing—show his boss that he was _trying_ —he continued, “I’ve…I’ve been riding again, it sets my mind at ease.”

“Ah. Good. Splendid,” said M with a slight upward quirk of his lips. He was now busy rifling through the papers on his desk, a clear signal that their little interview was over. “Well. I will keep you updated.”

“Yes, thank you. Goodbye, sir,” said Q.

He scowled at his phone’s darkened screen before tossing the offending device onto his bed. He could nip his little vacation in the bud and just hive off to London, no matter what M said, but the man was right. He did not have the proper clearance to start work.

He could call R, pester her for the new security codes and, if that did not work, threaten to hack into his own systems.

Christ, he was really going insane, wasn’t he?

And there was something else behind his futile requests, a different shade of guilt coloring his earnest pleas with M besides the usual brand of remorse of being incapacitated at the worst possible time. But there was something more now— an entirely new kind of guilt, involving a newly awakened feeling inside him, just several hours old.

To be honest, he actually found himself reluctant to go back to London and that, of course, had instantly made him double down on his pleas of going back.

And all because he’d met someone.

_Bloody hell._

He ought to call R, but R was probably neck-deep in a series of crisis meetings that ought to have been his responsibility.

He finally decided to go to the stables instead.

* * *

The stables at Sterling Horses were a vast, sprawling complex, able to accommodate over a hundred horses at any one time, although they were not full now and Q was able to find his man in no time.

He came across Bond talking with his brother-in-law and nodded awkwardly as Matt caught sight of him and waved him over.

“I see no introductions are necessary but I’ll do it all the same,” said Matt cheerfully. “James, Chris. Chris, James.”

Bond nodded. “Dr. Sterling,” he said, his low voice rumbling pleasantly in Q’s ears, just like it did several hours ago.

Q remembered startling, the fine hairs on his nape standing on end as Bond had emerged from the white fog, like a phantom. Shaking him out of his numbness and apathy had been quite a feat. He did not remember making a sound, thank god, though his horse did. Evidently Chestnut had recognized the stranger and had not hesitated to nuzzle into the outstretched hand as he made his unhurried approach.

That familiar act had done much to calm Q and had made him settle back on his saddle as he watched the newcomer murmuring soothingly to his horse. Then the man had lifted his head and, my god, those pale, unearthly eyes had immediately taken Q back more than two decades, to that day long ago when he’d almost drowned.

Those pale eyes were watching Q now with some amusement, perhaps, as Matt quipped, “Ah. I see he’s told you quite a bit about himself. That’s quite an honor, Bond. He’s usually such a closed book.”

The slight smile playing on Bond’s lips widened into a full smirk. “Hardly,” he said. “He told me that he’s essentially your guest here and nothing more. But I do remember Lyse mentioning a brother who’s from Cambridge and works in I.T once or twice.”

“Well, I can assure you there was hardly any attempt to deceive on my part,” Q said, now that he’d found his voice. “This may well be the family business but I am here solely as a guest who won’t be contributing much. At any rate, James never said anything about being an employee here, though I should have guessed, given how familiar he was with Chestnut.”

Unfazed, Bond replied mildly, “Well, you never asked.”

Far from offended, Q found himself smiling at how the exchange reminded him of his interactions with the double-O agents at work. This man fit their mold perfectly, with his physique, his looks, that impertinence.

He listened politely as Matt and Bond went through some business concerning the sale of a horse and against his better judgment, Q found himself warming to Bond almost immediately. He was familiar with this type of man. Then, talk complete, Q found he had no more reason to linger, but ought to follow his brother-in-law out.

That was until he blurted out, “I’d like James to show me around some more, if it’s all right with him.”

* * *

Later during lunch, Lyse remarked, teasingly, “So I hear you’re getting along quite well with James.”

Q rolled his eyes. “Can’t anyone be in someone else’s company around here for more than a few minutes without getting an earful?” he griped, though he found he could not quite meet Lyse’s gaze.

“Well,” she says, grinning, “I heard that it was at least thirty minutes, which is quite a record for you in terms of any kind of social interaction, punctuated by smiles and all signs pointing to you having a good time, at least when seen from afar. We do wonder what you could have talked about. Sharing secrets involving computer algorithms, perhaps?”

Q snorted. “Horses, if you must know, among other mundane things, of course.”

“Really? What other mundane things?” she said, wriggling her eyebrows knowingly.

Q would have liked to throw a piece of bread at her, but sadly he was no longer five.

“Boring stuff,” he repeated. “So ordinary, I’ve already forgotten what we’ve talked about.”

“Well,” said Lyse, smiling. “Seriously, though, I’m glad.”

It was only much later that Q realized that he had, indeed, quite forgotten what he and Bond had talked about.

* * *

In an effort not to appear like a nut with a crush, so early into his stay, he avoided the stables for the rest of the day.

This turned out not to be too hard as there were so many other things he could do— help out Lyse and Matt, play with the kids, stay in his room and take a nap, pester R. This he did as soon as he was able to reach her sometime mid-afternoon.

“Please don’t,” she said as soon as she came on the line, apparently having already read his mind. “I’ve had to deal with M for the past three hours and let me just say I am in no hurry to cross that man’s path again. Oh, and he also warned me against this.”

“Against what?” Q asked indignantly.

“Giving in to you, or whatever it is you’re planning to do,” said R. “Sorry, boss, but I can’t let you in when you haven’t got the proper clearance.”

“You know I can just hack in anytime,” Q argued. “I set up those systems, and you’re going to need my help sooner or—”

“And you can help me by not giving me any additional headaches via tampering with your own systems which I have amended,” R replied coolly. “God knows I can’t stop you from hacking your way in, but you’re the Quartermaster and we can’t have you breaking your own government’s laws. It’s not going to help one bit with the situation we’re dealing with right now.”

Trust R to ever be so stolid and dependable, Q thought sourly. He sighed. “Very well,” he said with all the grace he could muster. “I’ll try to convince M to grant me some sort of emergency clearance for when the time comes.”

“Please do that,” said R. “And boss…”

“Yes?”

“Rest up so you can come back to us sooner.”

“Rest is overrated,” said Q shortly.

“I’d give an arm and a leg to be idling on my arse just now,” sighed R, “so do make the most of it while you can.”

Afterward, Q lay back in bed, his hands pressed over his face as he counted down to twenty until he was quite calm again.

He had to remind himself that every bit of this mess at work was not his problem. For now.

For a while, he fought back the dark tendrils of anxiety by doing mental exercises in his head— some maths, recalling the lines of his favorite poems, and from there to more complex memory work.

Little by little, as he felt the knot inside his head and chest loosen, he also began to remember bits and pieces of his interactions with the man he’d met only that morning.

“I know you,” he’d said to Bond. “All those years ago. It was you.”

And Bond had shaken his head and replied, “You will forget. Everything.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Aaand here's the next chapter! As always, huge thanks to my lovely Beta, [**Christinefromsherwood,**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood) for her great input and feedback!

The mystery deepens! Enjoy and do let the Muse know what you think!

* * *

Lyse and Matt decided they would have dinner at the pub that evening.

“It’s just a stone’s throw away, don’t worry. We’ll be back home in no time,” Lyse said, eyeing the way Q had hunched himself into his coat, arms defensively crossed over his chest as they made their way down the rapidly darkening road. “Tig—”

“I’m fine,” Q said shortly, cutting Lyse off before she could say anything more, because, yes, he now had a thing against walking along dark, unfamiliar roads, even with company. But he was damned if Lyse was going to say it out loud in front of the kids.

The pub was a bustling, cheery place attached to the local inn. Q heaved a sigh of relief, allowing himself to relax in the warmth and light all around as they settled down at their table, the kids clamoring for their fish and chips while the grownups went for the usual bangers and mash, haggis, and steak and kidney pie. Q ordered grilled salmon.

They were just about done with their meal when Q happened to look up and see Bond enter the pub. There came a flurry of acknowledgments as Bond noticed them a moment later and came forward. It took around ten minutes for the man to extricate himself from Matt and Lyse’s chatter as well as an invitation to come and join them, and by that time Q had managed to pull himself together and shut his gaping mouth.

“I’ll just be over at the bar,” said Bond smoothly. “Enjoy your dinner.”

And this was all accomplished without so much as a glance at Q’s direction.

 _Damn him,_ Q thought, seething.

“Well, he must be expecting company,” said Matt as he cast a meaningful glance at the other diners nearby, and Q felt his heart sink at the number of women eyeballing Bond.

Of course. _Of course._

Was it really a surprise? A man like that could and did put all the other gents in the room to shame.

He briefly wondered what the women might think, if only they knew what he knew.

Which was what, exactly?

He would need to test his hypothesis further.

 _Tomorrow,_ a reasonable part of himself tried to argue. He could always quiz Bond tomorrow, see how he’d squirm then. Right now, all good sense pointed to his salvaging what was left of his pride and leaving the man alone.

It was just too bad that his brain had ceased to consider good reason and could not give a fuck about his pride. It could even manage to ignore Lyse’s raised eyebrow.

Before he realized it, he’d planted himself by Bond’s elbow. “Can I have a word?” he said, not even endeavoring for subtlety.

Bond smirked. “Only if it’s one word,” he replied, sounding thoroughly amused.

“Tig,” Lyse cut in. She now had two eyebrows raised.

“You guys go ahead,” said Q, gesturing at the kids while trying not to glare at Lyse. “I’ll just have a pint with James, then I’ll get myself home.”

“But you’re not familiar with the roads—”

Bond nodded at Lyse. “I’ll walk him home, Lyse.”

Q bristled, but Bond’s offer seemed to assuage Lyse’s concern. “Thanks, James,” she said, relieved. “Well, enjoy the evening!”

Q pretended not to see Lyse’s broad wink at his direction as they made their departure. Before he could say or do anything else, Bond had signaled the bartender for another beer, for him.

“Please excuse my sister,” Q said stiffly as he sat himself down beside Bond. “But you know how it is with older siblings. I hope I’m not bothering you.”

“Nonsense,” said Bond, smirking. “You’re a guest. Tig.”

Q stared at his glass, noting with fascination the beads of perspiration on its sides and refusing to look at Bond, who was gazing quite frankly at him with a question in his raised brows.

“It’s short for Tigger,” he said at last. “Because I was such a hyperactive little git while growing up. I got myself into all sorts of scrapes back then, but the most memorable one involved my falling into a lake from around these parts once. Shall I tell you all about it?”

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Bond’s smirk fading just a bit.

Q cleared his throat as he continued contemplatively, “Well, “fall” might be too much of an exaggeration. I waded into the lake, you see, after seeing this thing, this… horse, there. Right in the middle of the water. I thought, how splendid that it could swim! I did not realize there was such a sudden drop from one step to the next in the lochs here. And the currents! I could have died if it hadn’t dragged me back to shore. Even now, I can still remember the feel of its wet mane in my hands.”

He looked up to see Bond watching him. Bond’s lips were twitching as though he were unsure whether to laugh or scowl as he regarded Q with those unsettling blue eyes.

“And I remember its eyes,” said Q. “I’ve not come across that particular shade again until now. I remember it, nuzzling at my face as I lay on that bank. Then suddenly there was a man right above me, speaking to my parents as they came running over. I remember him— his face, his voice—even as my parents forgot. Even as Lyse forgot. I’ve not forgotten him, though, even when you told me to, just a few hours ago. I’ve not forgotten _you.”_

“Bloody Christ,” Bond muttered. His mouth had stopped twitching and had most decidedly set into a stern, straight line. “Listen to yourself. What are you even saying?”

“I’ve not forgotten anything,” Q repeated. “Not our strange conversation from earlier, not the fact that you’ve come back, apparently having defied time, with the power to alter memories and perception. Only it hasn’t quite worked with me. But then perhaps it’s because of my photographic memory. Bothersome thing, really. Nice try though.”

Bond shook his head. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Q hummed. “That’s really not a very convincing denial. Clearly, you need to work on your gaslighting techniques. And no, I’m not drunk yet, seeing as I’ve not touched my drink. Maybe you ought to just tell me to forget all over again. Let’s see if I remember in the morning.”

There was a moment, Q thought as he gazed at Bond’s eyes, when he believed Bond might set his drink down and just bolt out of the place.

“I mean, I’m not going to cause any trouble for you,” he quickly clarified. “I’m just curious and quite fascinated.”

“It’s time you went home,” said Bond shortly.

Q blinked. “I thought you were going to bring me home.”

“It’s just a short walk from here. I’m sure you’ll be able to figure it out, given your photographic memory,” said Bond quite pleasantly as he stood up and paid for the drinks. “Good night.”

Then he was gone. Really gone, before Q could walk out of the pub with him.

Bond had really bolted.

Q sat there for a few minutes more, frozen. He knew he could get home on his own, but he wasn’t paying attention to the roads earlier, just grumpily followed Matt and Lyse while he was wrapped up in his thoughts of Bond. Besides, it was all pitch black now after he put on his coat and took a tentative step out of the pub.

The darkness seemed to unfold before him like a vacuum or, worse, a wide, gaping mouth, and he stood there, rooted to the spot.

He could use one of the apps on his phone, but wi-fi had been spotty at best since he’d arrived at the farm and it was virtually nonexistent out here.

He could, of course, call Lyse and ask her to come by.

Over his dead body.

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

 _Walk, damn it,_ he told himself, and started forcing one foot in front of the other.

The darkness seemed to swallow him whole, so he had to turn on his phone and let its light illuminate the way for him. Even then, it cast only a small bubble of white in front of him, bobbing erratically as he stumbled forward, and everywhere around him was wrapped in the stillness of night.

Only, it wasn’t all that quiet. Apart from his skidding footsteps over the uneven gravel, he thought he could make out another set of footfalls not far behind him, heavier ones. He started to walk faster, his gait jerky as he willed himself not to panic. He would absolutely not look over his shoulder. That was until he heard the footsteps behind him quickening to match his and he lost control of himself. He bolted.

“Q, wait!”

Had he really heard that? Or perhaps he’d imagined it through the loud crunch of the gravel beneath his feet. At any rate, he tripped and would have fallen had an arm not appeared from nowhere to seize him.

“Are you alright?” This was said almost into his ear, the voice deep and familiar, and Q sagged against Bond almost imperceptibly before he remembered himself and tore away from the man’s supporting hold.

“I thought you’d left,” he snapped, or tried to. He disliked the way his voice wavered, sounding clearly shaken. Squinting into the darkness, he could hardly make out Bond’s features.

“I came back,” said Bond, his steady voice quickly calming Q down. “And good thing, too, because you’re going the _wrong way.”_

“Well, you could have saved us all the trouble if you’d only— you know what? Never mind. You’re here now. Lead the way then,” Q huffed, folding his arms over himself defensively.

“You’re welcome,” muttered Bond, and there seemed to be a trace of the old amusement weaving itself back into his voice as he started walking, Q trotting beside him to keep up.

“And I wasn’t trying to rile you up, you know,” Q said. “I was only telling the truth. And you weren’t.”

“Bloody Christ,” Bond grated, though the note of amusement remained. Maybe.

“And did you call me Q just now?”

“Did I?”

It was too dark to see Bond’s face, but there came a snort from him. Definitely amused.

“How did you know that?” Q said, refusing to be shaken off. “Oh, that’s right. You’re imbued with magical powers.”

“Whatever you say,” said Bond lightly as he made a small turn in the road and they were suddenly walking up the familiar path that led to the farm.

“Bond,” Q said as he was deposited onto the lighted porch of the main house. “I— thank you.”

Bond said nothing, merely gave him a small smirk before turning away.

“But this changes nothing, you know,” Q called after him, half-indignant. “I’ll get down to the bottom of things, so you may as well just tell me everything now, or at the soonest possible opportunity.”

“Good night, Christopher,” was all Bond said before he vanished back into the night.

Q opened his mouth, but before he could say another word, his phone rang.

Shit, he thought as he glanced at the caller ID and did a double take.

It was 005. Steven.

He let his phone ring as he entered the house, Lyse greeting him with, “Oh, there you are. James dropped you off? Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“No,” he said. “I don’t think I will. Good night.”

By the time he got to his room, there was a message: _I came back and they said you’ve gone on leave. Tell me you’re okay, Chris. Where are you?_

 _Shit,_ he thought as he tossed the phone away to bury his face in his hands. _Shit shit shit._


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Notes:** Ahhh, here's the next chapter! It's crunch time for RBB and I reallyhope I can beat the deadline in a few days' time! Thanks so much to **[Storm_of-sharp_things](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storm_of_sharp_things/pseuds/storm_of_sharp_things)** for details on how horses show affection to humans, and to my marvelous Beta, **[Christinefromsherwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood)** , for her great help and ideas. This chapter would not have come into being without you, darlin! 

Enjoy and do let us know what you think!

* * *

Q could feel a panic attack coming on as he stared at his phone, but then it was only natural where 005 was concerned.

He should have told M, right from the beginning, and the longer he put it off, the harder it became. Yet how was he supposed to break the news to his boss that he’d failed to declare that he’d slept around with one of their own agents?

It had started, quite foolishly, with flattery and flirtation. He should have known, but too many late nights in Q branch and not enough human interaction could take their toll on his mental armor, Q supposed, or perhaps he really just had a thing for dangerous, charismatic men.

The double-Os were all that and more, each and every one of them, right down to the legendary 007—the only agent that Q had never met personally given that the man had gone undercover long before Q had taken on his role. Q had his file, of course, but only M had ever spoken to him. Q could almost believe the man was a myth.

Yet even among the double-O’s propensity to seduce and manipulate, 005 had outdone himself. He’d ramped up the charm offensive by being unfailingly kind and attentive to him, showing a genuine interest in his projects and bringing him tasty dinners and even more delicious gossip during one too many long nights when he was on duty and the comms were quiet.

Q had tried to be stern and put the man in his place, but 005 had persisted until he’d thawed and caved in to the man’s relentless and imaginative offers of dinners and drinks out and, while he’d been tipsy with wine and infatuation, he’d let it happen one night. Looking back, it had been too easy.

It had happened exactly once. He’d never been the type to bring a man home to his flat, double-O agent or not, but he should have known better. Even if he’d been careful never to leave confidential papers and material lying around in his flat, even if his computers were locked and encrypted so securely that only a state-sponsored expert cyber unit could even attempt to break in.

Even then, he should have known better; even when the sex had been fantastic and he’d awakened a bit out of sorts the next morning, only to find 005’s side of the bed long cold and a plate of lukewarm breakfast on his bedside table, with a hastily scribbled note by 005 saying he had been called in. No reason for his blood freezing in his veins, and yet…

He _had_ known better. Enough, anyway, to tell 005 that it wasn’t happening again between them because he prized their professional relationship far more than any amount of great shagging. Afterward, he’d run several tests to ensure nothing had been breached at home. He’d been sure there had been nothing amiss. Nothing had been taken. He did not know what 005 wanted from him, but he could damn well come out and say it.

And so that had been that, until the international incidents a few weeks later, occurring in such rapid succession that it had stolen the breath from him, when their enemies had managed to effectively circumvent the gadgets he’d armed the three double-O agents on their seemingly separate assignments.

He had known then, when 005 survived his own mission, give or take a rough extraction, that something was terribly wrong. Given the trajectory of the other agents’ missions and how closely linked they’d been to 005’s, he’d not been expected to make it out.

But survive he did, and that panic attack that everyone had witnessed in Q branch had been conveniently misconstrued. Q had not broken down at 005’s difficult extraction, but at the inevitable conclusion that was drawn from his very survival. Even then, he could not really discount if 005 had only been incredibly lucky. He did not know. _He did not know._

At least he’d not kept his suspicions from M. Without naming names, he’d presented the findings to him and allowed him to reach the same conclusions and start his own investigation into a possible security breach. But he should have told him of his brief involvement with 005. Perhaps M already knew.

The thought that his boss might very well have known had contributed to his black, downward spiral. _He should have told him._

Even now, he could still come clean. He must tell him, Q knew, as soon as possible.

As soon as morning came, he reasoned, as he did his breathing exercises in bed, struggling to calm down. He knew sleep would elude him. By 4 am, he gave up.

The house was dark and quiet as he slipped out, but he knew the stables started work early. There was light in some segments of the complex, though devoid of people when he stepped inside.

It was still too dark to ride Chestnut out, but he knew, without bothering to acknowledge it to himself, that he wasn’t here for Chestnut.

He just needed to talk to Bond, ask him some questions. And yes, he could admit to himself privately that he would not be averse to letting the man calm him down like last night.

God, what was wrong with him?

He stuttered to a stop as he came upon Bond shirtless and washing himself in one of the water troughs, his back to him. He did not why this came as a surprise, but it did. He was reduced to stillness, unable to look away, his startled gaze tracking over the contours of those muscles, that magnificent body, rough like an uncut diamond.

He jumped when Bond said, still not turning around, “Like what you see?”

Q huffed. “Was this all just for me? It’s rather like using a big hammer to crack a small nut, don’t you think? Although I suppose I ought to be careful to shield my thoughts around mind readers.”

Bond turned to him, smiling, and Q’s attention was briefly riveted around a flash of gold on Bond’s neck. He was wearing a pendant. _The_ pendant, Q thought.

Bond said, “What makes you think I have to probe your mind when your face will do? Not to mention the fact that you’ve been tailing me around like a puppy since we met. Now don’t tell me you’ve missed an entire night’s sleep just to come talk to me.”

“Well,” said Q, sticking his hands into his pockets as he glanced down hurriedly at his shoes. “I suppose I am in deep trouble if I’ve become this transparent. I swear I wasn’t like this before.”

When he glanced back up, Bond was standing right in front of him. He swallowed but did not flinch.

“Are you never going to be afraid of me?” Bond remarked, those pale eyes boring into him with something akin to wonder. “Is it really very wise, Christopher, to be coming up to strangers who you think can transform into horses swimming around in lochs? In these parts, such creatures bode no good, you know.”

“Probably not,” Q admitted, his own gaze rapt as Bond came closer, crowding him against the doorway. He did not try to stop him. “Though if you really wanted to, you could have taken me all those years ago. Save yourself all the trouble of having to deal with me as an adult, with my smart-arse mouth.”

A corner of Bond’s lips tilted into a smirk. “You’re interesting and entertaining. Besides, it wasn’t your time then.”

“And is it my time now?” Q asked. “Is that the reason why you’re here?”

“So many questions,” said Bond, tilting his head a fraction. He was so very close now. “And still, not a hint of fear. I don’t smell it anywhere on you. But you’re sick with worry for others.”

Q drew in a breath. “I also don’t know why I’m like this, with you.”

“Or perhaps you only know too well,” Bond said as he finally leaned in to take Q’s mouth with his own.

Q sighed tremulously into the kiss, his eyes flitting shut as he opened his mouth to let Bond in, his arms lifting to twine around Bond’s neck, holding him close.

 _This_ , he thought as he abandoned himself into the searing kiss.

There were no words to express how he felt, how coming into this man’s arms was like coming home. Everything that they were, everything they had ever done… everything led to this one moment of coming together.

“I was so lost,” whispered Q against Bond’s lips, when the kiss ended. “I fucked up so bad, people lost their lives probably because of it. That was why they forced me to take a leave of absence at work. That’s why I’m here. I thought that’s why you’ve come, because I’ve thought of ending things.”

He kept his head down, forehead nearly grazing Bond’s clavicle, yet he could feel Bond’s gaze on him. Then: “No. That’s not it.”

Q shuddered out a breath. “But I am in danger.”

“Yes.”

“Just answer me this. When I do go, will it be by water?”

He watched Bond’s chest rising and falling in front of him, so close he could feel his solid warmth. Then the low voice rumbled, “Not while I’m here.”

Q breathed out a laugh. “What are you, really? A guardian spirit? Your kind shouldn’t give a damn about us, or…let me guess. We totally fucked up that entire legend about kelpies, didn’t we?”

It was the first time he’d spoken the word out loud, yet it didn’t feel strange at all. He felt more than heard Bond’s laugh.

“We’re more complicated than that,” Bond conceded.

“Misunderstood,” Q said. “Trust people to fuck things up when it comes to our fairy folk.”

There was a beat of silence, yet Bond did not take a step back. Q reached up a hand to touch the gold pendant that hung on Bond’s neck. “This looks old,” he said. “Anglo Saxon?”

“Older,” replied Bond.

Q nodded. “Of course. Who gave it to you?”

“A woman,” Bond said. “The first one to whom I was bound, a long time ago.”

“What happened to her?”

“She was branded as a witch and drowned by the village folk.”

Q fought not to shudder. “And is it true what the legends say? That you’re indentured to whoever takes this pendant from you and you’ll turn into your true form until it’s returned to you?”

“Why don’t you find out?” said Bond. “Though I think you already know that I’m bound to you.”

Q was startled. “Why me? And just how did I do that?”

“We don’t know why we attach ourselves to certain people and not others,” Bond said. “That was why I couldn’t let you drown that day. So take this. See what happens.”

Before Q could protest, Bond reached up a hand to unclasp the thin gold chain from his neck.

“Bond,” said Q. “Are you sure? I don’t…I’m not…”

_Not strong enough._

He was left holding the necklace as Bond stepped back.

“You came here thinking that you’re broken,” Bond said, “when you’re far from it. I know of no one stronger than you. And there is still work to be done.”

* * *

“We need you back in London,” M said without preamble as soon as he picked up Q’s call.

Q blinked. “Sir?”

“There has been an attack at Six, we were evacuated just in time. I’ve sent Moneypenny to pick you up personally. She will be arriving in two hours. I will also be calling in an operative near your area, but do not move until Moneypenny gets there.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Be careful, Q. We were betrayed at some very high levels here, possibly some of the double-O’s are involved.”

“Oh god. Sir, 005--”

“We're not very sure yet. Do not trust anyone except Moneypenny, is that understood?”

Q swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

And that was that. M rang off, leaving Q to stare at his phone in silence.

* * *

Q sat on a stretch of grassy turf, letting the sun and fresh air tinged with the smell of water soak through him. From here, he could see the shimmering waters of the loch, just a twenty minute ride from the farm.

He needed this, to be out in the open, where he could breathe and think.

There was a soft neighing behind him and still Q did not turn his head. From the corner of his eye, he could see Chestnut grazing a dozen feet away, unperturbed by the newcomer.

Instead, he put up his hand and felt the soft muzzle of the great beast that had come up to him so stealthily. Still seated, he smiled, lifting his head to kiss the side of the animal’s face.

“Oh god, you’re so beautiful,” Q murmured as he came to his feet, finally seeing the creature in full.

He was a great, handsome brute. Of course, he was. He was much larger than any mortal horse, with a thick, straggling mane that hung wetly on the sides of that shiny, muscular neck, and those unearthly pale eyes that gazed back at Q unblinkingly from a fringe of thick lashes.

He should have been terrified, yet Q only smiled as he stroked the kelpie’s neck, marveling at its texture and sheen. In answer, the kelpie tucked Q into his great shoulder as he rubbed his head and neck against him in unmistakable affection.

“You’re marvelous, James,” Q whispered as he hugged him unreservedly. “You look just like you did that day. I feel like you’ve put a spell on me back then. Made sure I'd want to return to you. And here. This isn’t mine to keep.”

He produced the pendant and placed it on the grass in front of those large, black hooves. “I need to pack, get back to London,” he said. “Things are unfolding at a very fast pace. I don’t know how things will unfold from there. I wish I had some answers now, but there’s no time to lose. I’ll…I’ll see you later so we can talk, yeah?”

With that he turned to go, his heart clenched in his throat, unable to bring himself to look back at the lone figure he’d left behind.

* * *

It took quite some time to explain things to Lyse, and by the time he was throwing his clothes into his suitcase hurriedly, his phone rang.

 _Moneypenny,_ he thought, heart hammering.

But it was 005.

He knew he shouldn’t take the call at all, but he could not stop himself.

“Steven,” he said, his voice sounding all right in his ears.

“Christopher,” said 005. “I’ve been trying to call you—”

“I know, I’m sorry I’ve been busy,” said Q.

“You’re in danger, I’ve come to get you.”

“I’m not in—”

“London, no,” agreed 005. “You’re at your sister’s farm, and I’m here right in front of her house.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Notes:** Aaaaand it's finally done!! Woo!! It's a photo finish, too, lol!!

Thanks so much to:[ **Themuller**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuller/pseuds/themuller) for her kind patience and great support, and for entrusting me with her great art! To [**Christinefromsherwood**](https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinefromsherwood/pseuds/christinefromsherwood), for her boundless encouragement and fantastic beta! I could not have finished this without her! And to **[Chestnut NOLA](https://chestnutnola.tumblr.com/),** for all the hard work, organizing and modding the RBB fest!

I hope you guys enjoy, and do let me know what you think! 

* * *

It took everything Q had to calmly open the door and announce brightly: “Steven! What a surprise!”

“Christopher. Ma’am.” 005 grinned, looking entirely relaxed as he politely nodded at Lyse, who crowded behind Q as he stood at the front door. By contrast, Q’s face ached from the wide, false smile he’d pinned on.

“He’s from work,” Q said briefly, catching Lyse just as she opened her mouth.

“Oh?” inquired Lyse, puzzled. “But I thought—”

Q said hastily, “I—I just need to talk to Steven for a bit.”

“Well, okay,” said Lyse as she moved back from the door.

Once she was out of hearing range, Q dropped his smile.

“Come on, Christopher, we haven’t got much time,” urged 005 as he turned to the black Jaguar, parked several yards away.

Q came outside and stopped. Aloud, he said, “What do you mean? I haven’t packed or anything. Would you mind telling me what the rush is about?”

005 paused. “What? You’ve not heard?” he said.

Q creased his brows. “Heard what?”

“There’s been an attack at headquarters,” said 005. “You mean M hasn’t called you?”

“No!”

This was getting ridiculous; Q wasn’t sure if he was laying the surprise on a bit too thick, but from the way 005’s features seemed to relax a fraction, he sensed he was on the right track.

“Well, let’s get you out of here, then,” said 005. “We don’t have a moment to lose.”

“Tell me everything first.”

“We’ll have plenty of time in the car.”

“No. Now,” Q said, planting himself stubbornly on the stone steps in front of the house and refusing to budge further as he played for time. “That is an order, 005.”

Where the hell was Bond at a time like this?

“I say we stay put,” Q insisted. “Until we hear from M. Or at least Tanner, or Moneypenny. I don’t see why I’ve not been informed by anyone. We should wait, and--”

005 came forward, his face suddenly setting like hard granite. He looked like a stranger, cold and unfamiliar. “It’s not as if you have any choice in the matter, Q,” he said. “I’ve been tasked to get you. Let’s go. _Now.”_

“What do you mean? Of course, I—”

“I mean I know that you _know_ ,” said 005. “Or at the very least, you’ve suspected. And you are in no position to be dictating terms when I can kill everyone you love right here, right now, if you don’t come with me.”

Q stared at him. “You can just kill me and be done with it.”

“Of course not,” 005 scoffed. “Oh, no. Janus wants you alive, otherwise, I’d have a much easier time, believe me. Now get in the car, love, or I shoot the first person who comes around the corner.”

Q moved slowly, dragging his feet until 005 reached up an impatient hand which he swatted away. “Don’t touch me.”

 _Come on, Bond,_ he thought, desperately trying to avoid looking right and left. _Where the hell are you?_

He got into the Jaguar. He glared at 005 as the man solicitously closed his door and sauntered over to the driver’s side, cool and calm as only a double-O agent could be, and wondered if he had time to turn on the ignition and ram the car into 005’s smug form before the bastard could get in.

No such luck.

“Good boy,” said 005 briskly as he started the engine and smoothly maneuvered the car down the driveway and out of the farm, quickly picking up speed as they hit the country road.

Q breathed out a shaky sigh, torn between relief that nobody got hurt—that he was putting more and more distance between Lyse and her family and this murderous traitor—and a very quiet desperation as his kidnapping was effectively underway.

“Janus,” said Q, pursing his lips as he appeared to mull things over. He could feel his phone, safely tucked away inside the inner breast pocket of his jacket, with its open line to M. “It’s quite an apt name, I think, for an organization that employs two-faced assholes such as yourself.”

005 merely grinned. “God, I swear, that mouth,” he said almost fondly. “I’ve missed you, Chris.”

“Fuck you,” said Q, his tone quite civil. “Tell me you didn’t manage to pry any information from…when we were together.”

“Of course not,” said 005. If anything, his grin only spread wider. “You’re such a silly little fusspot, cagier than a cat on steroids. Too thorough and, let’s face it, you don’t trust any of us, do you?”

“Well,” said Q. “To be honest, I initially thought you slept with me just to get your hands on that exploding pen.”

005 laughed and Q nearly jumped. Once upon a time he’d craved that rich, deep laugh. He would have done much to hear it.

He was such a fucking idiot.

“If it’s going to make you feel better, it wasn’t you, love,” 005 said almost reassuringly.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” snapped Q.

“And R was too much of a professional, and happily married,” continued 005 as though he’d not heard him. “Now, that new bloke, S, on the other hand. Perfect target. Not so high up the food chain but with reasonable access to certain plans and rearing to prove himself. There wasn’t even any sex involved, just plain old flattery and the occasional bottle of vintage champagne to smoothe things over.”

“They were your comrades, your friends,” gritted Q. “003, 004 and 008. They were—”

“Hurdles to get rid of,” 005 said. “As for M, well. He’s very likely dead, as you’d not heard from him. I’d say 009 made a quick job of it.”

“Bastards,” muttered Q. “What did they bribe you with, and for how long has this been going on?”

“Too many questions,” said 005, shaking his head. “You can ask Janus directly. I think you’d be familiar with him, he’s practically homegrown.”

Q felt the breath punched out of him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s not from your time, or even my time at Six, obviously,” said 005, keeping his eyes on the stretch of rough, bumpy road ahead. “But let’s just say he was an insider and knows the workings of Six inside out.”

Q eyed the trees outside his window as they streaked past, his heart hammering, unable to believe what he’d just heard. This was insurrection at an unprecedented level.

 _James, James, James_ , he chanted in his head, quite heartsick. _Where are you?_

He knew this stretch of road, lightly wooded and rough, leading to the loch through a series of sharp, abrupt bends and forks. He’d just been down this road not an hour ago on horseback. He felt the car slowing to take the next bend and, without thinking, he opened the door and hurled himself out.

He landed painfully on his side and rolled over a few times before he caught himself. He heard 005 cursing from the open door of the car as it screeched to a halt a few yards away. Breathless, still winded, Q picked himself up and began to run down the narrow, uneven road, dappled with green shadows from the high trees and completely still and silent.

Gingerly, he reached down with a hand to feel for his phone. “Can you still hear me, sir?” he said softly.

“Yes, loud and clear, Q,” said M. “Go. Run. I am sending reinforcement.”

“How? Where—?“

“Christopher, what are you doing?” 005 called after him, sounding quite amused, “you’re going the wrong way!”

Q tucked his phone away and tried to run faster, clutching at a stitch in his ribs and feeling quite sure he’d broken his elbow from the way it hurt like fucking hell.

Next time, he promised himself nonsensically, panting as he approached the previous bend. Next time he was back in London, he was going to take up running to keep in shape. If he survived this shit.

He was too busy running and did not quite understand at first what the tendrils of vapor were that started to pool at his feet. Fog.

“Come on now. Be a good boy, get back in the car,” 005 cajoled, and Q could imagine the fucker trailing leisurely after him, laughing and taking his time, gun in hand. “Don’t make me come after you.”

_Goddammit, Bond, just fucking get here already!_

He dodged into the trees abruptly and heard 005 shout. He did not anticipate the gentle slope, shielded by the trees, and half-fell, half-rolled down before he could clutch at some low-lying branches to steady himself. It was a good thing he fell, for the first shots suddenly rang out. Splinters of wood exploded just inches beside him as he kept his head down.

Panting, he half-ran, half-skidded down the wooded slope and he was suddenly out in the open. There, just a few yards away, was the loch, where fog was quickly enveloping the pebbly shore, creating precious cover. Without another thought, he headed for the water, more shots sounding behind him.

He waded in, the waters churning and cold, slowing him down. He could feel 005 gaining on him from behind.

_Move, move, goddammit!_

As soon as it was deep enough, he threw himself in and started to swim out, going deeper and resurfacing to see 005 on the shore, scanning the water for him. The fog was coming in thicker now so that he wasn’t sure at first what he was seeing: a shadow that flitted silently through the roiling coils of white vapor before suddenly breaking through as a full-bodied, charging beast.

 _Oh, thank bloody Christ!_ Q thought as a huge and angry equine form charged at 005 on the shore, taking him by surprise. _Where the hell have you been, Bond!_

Battling the currents to keep himself afloat, Q almost smiled as he heard 005 let out a blood-curdling scream. Then there were more shots fired before the kelpie overpowered the hapless agent, stomping him onto the ground.

 _Alive!_ Q thought wildly. _We need him alive, Bond!_

005 managed to get up, savagely punching the kelpie’s flank to keep him at bay before there was more incoherent screaming. His hand had become stuck to the kelpie’s form, merging with the muscle and sinew, and he was being dragged mercilessly into the water.

_Wait!_

Yet Q himself was having difficulty with the strong currents, sending him down despite his best efforts to swim against the flow.

When the precious air bubbles had all disappeared, he found himself floating, weightless, in a world of silent, blue water. Such blessed silence. In here, he felt like he could finally hear himself think for hours. There was a shimmering orb of white light overhead, but he had no need of it, just as he had no need of sound, of noise. Of breathing.

Suddenly, his hand touched firm, solid flesh and saw the speckled flank of a creature entirely familiar and beloved. He smiled as he leaned into that body before he passed out.

He awoke sometime later—he wasn’t sure how long he’d been out—lying on the rough, pebbly shore, retching up water as Bond pumped at his chest.

“Fuck. Christopher!” Bond bit out as he finally removed his hands from Q’s chest.

There was a moment when all he could do was blink owlishly at Bond’s blurred face, peering down at him closely. He’d lost his glasses. Then, he croaked, “James. Why the long face?”

He heard Bond’s soft laugh as he was pulled into a sitting position. Good. He’d been saving that one. A few feet away, he could see 005’s limp form.

“Is he dead?” Q said, aghast. “For god’s sake, we need him alive, Bond—”

“He’s nowhere near it,” Bond grunted.

“Oh,” said Q as he peered at 005, who had begun to moan and pick himself up. “Do you suppose…do you suppose he might remember you as…as…”

“That won’t be a problem,” said Bond as he went over to kneel beside 005. He seized at the man’s hair with one hand, lifting his head a few inches.

“Forget,” growled Bond before knocking 005’s head back onto the ground, finally rendering him unconscious.

“Do you think that would do it?” said Q rather doubtfully. “Well, I suppose that head smash would if your spell doesn’t.”

“Why, you…” Bond laughed softly as he shook his head. “Come here.”

“I’m fine,” Q said softly as Bond gathered him in to inspect him carefully, his touch on Q’s injured elbow impossibly gentle.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get here soon enough,” said Bond.

Q grinned. “I’m just glad you got your arse here in time. Mental bond and all that,” he said before he burst out giggling, giddy with relief. He leaned in and allowed Bond to take his mouth.

He sighed blissfully into Bond’s kiss, hard and urgent, thinking he’d be quite happy for this moment to stretch on forever.

It was not meant to be.

They broke apart as Q’s phone, still nestled securely in his breast pocket, started a familiar ringtone, normally dreaded at work but more than welcome now.

“Waterproof,” murmured Q as he detached himself from Bond far enough to put the phone to his ear. “Sir.”

“You’re alright, Q, thank god.”

“Yes, sir.” Q smiled up at Bond, knowing he could hear his boss over the phone.

“And 005?”

“Unconscious and not going anywhere, sir.”

“Good. Is 007 there? Let me speak to him, please.”

Q knitted his brows. “007?” he repeated.

“Yes, he’s the undercover agent at your area and tasked to protect you—”

“No,” Q said, shaking his head, thinking M must be mistaken. “There’s no agent…here…”

He trailed off as he turned to find Bond watching him, his pale gaze shuttered. Realization, when it finally came, hit him like a ton of bricks. His mouth fell open but no sound came out.

Without a word, Bond reached out to pluck the phone gently from his hand.

“Hello, M,” he said, never taking his eyes off Q as he continued to stare at 007 in shock.

* * *

“Well,” said M as he leaned back in his chair while Q sat stiffly in his. Bond was beside him, entirely at ease.

It was over a week later and they were in the familiar precincts of M’s leather-bound office at Six.

“Three agents dead, two traitors captured, the entire double-O program in shambles and a new entity called Janus on the horizon,” M continued, sighing heavily as he sifted through the reports on his desk. “Except it’s being helmed by one of ours. A familiar face for 007.”

Bond nodded. “Alec Trevelyan was supposed to have died at Arkhangelsk more than ten years ago,” he said. “I saw it happen.”

Q stared ahead, giving no sign that he’d heard Bond. He could not, however, stop breathing, and it was growing more and more laboured by the minute as he tried to quell the rising feeling inside him.

“Apparently, you were wrong,” said M.

Bond tilted his head. “Not exactly,” he said. “Trevelyan is a revenant, sir. He can exist inside a dead body for unspecified amounts of time.”

M gazed at him for a moment and blinked, once.

“It’s a long story,” Bond said, clearly starting to enjoy himself. “But we can stick to the more logical aspects for the official record’s sake.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Q spoke up. M shifted his gaze at him.

“While we’re at it,” said Q, voice rising, “has 007 ever told you he’s a kelpie from a Scottish loch, M? And that somehow, we share some sort of bond? No? Apparently, there’s a variety of magical creatures living in our midst. Goodness knows just how many more there are running around in Six alone. I suppose we cannot discount Harry Potter from appearing any moment now. Sorry, oh god, I’m so sorry.”

M continued to gaze at him silently as Q subsided in his chair, his hand pinching hard between his brows, after the bubble of hysteria swelling inside him had burst.

Bond turned back to M. “You will forget everything about our little exchange just now, sir.”

“Of course,” M said briskly, appearing to snap out of a trance as he looked down at his papers. “Now where were we? Ah, yes. Alec Trevelyan. He was supposed to have died at Arkhangelsk more than ten years ago. Apparently, you were wrong, 007.”

Q stared at Bond in silent outrage as the insufferable man gave a brief smirk before saying, “Yes, I was wrong. Sorry, sir.”

* * *

“Don’t come near me,” hissed Q once the meeting was over and they were outside M’s office. “Just don’t.”

“It won’t happen that way all the time,” promised Bond. “But for his own sake and the world at large, M can’t know. He’s not like you.”

“You could have told me you were 007.”

“No,” said Bond. “I could not.”

“Just answer me this,” said Q, trying for another tactic. “Are there many more like you here? Fae and magical folk?”

“We’re not all that common. Anyone would be lucky to come across one in their lifetime.”

“Except me. I’m now acquainted with two.”

“Except you,” Bond agreed. _“Q.”_

This, as Q started to walk away from him. “I need time,” said Q shortly. “You will give it to me, Bond. You will know when I’m ready.”

Back in Q branch, once he’d settled down within its familiar surroundings, he wondered whether it would be so much better if he could just succumb to Bond’s charm of forgetfulness, just like M. It would certainly be more convenient. But then he would not know Bond for what he was, except as a massive git at the best of times. He would not have fallen in love with him.

* * *

It took almost a month for his rage to melt away. By that time the world had tilted back on its axis and they were more or less all back to normal.

Bond was right. Contrary to his paranoid expectations, no other magical creature had reared its head in the meantime. His world was still the same, Q branch was still Q branch, R was still R while S had been sacked. New recruits filed into the double-O program and Q was busy for a while, outfitting them and training them to use the new gadgets.

Yet in the evenings he found himself thinking of Bond. He’d finally begun to miss him.

Bond had engineered his departure from the farm very quickly and smoothly, almost overnight, and while Q had worried that Bond might mess with Lyse and Matt’s memories just a tad too much and leave a gaping void there, it seemed they had nothing but fond recollections of him.

Now Bond was away on an assignment tracking down Janus and Q spent his free evenings missing him while castigating himself for never learning not to pine for dangerous men.

Then there came the doorbell at 7pm one night and, instead of it being the Deliveroo guy with his dinner on the video monitor, there stood Bond outside his front door.

‘Christopher, please,” came the familiar, deep voice softly through the wood as Q rested his forehead against its cool surface.

It took him a few minutes to get on with it, yet once he opened the door to let Bond in, everything felt familiar—Bond’s arms and his warmth, his embrace that felt like coming home. After a moment, Q leaned in, melting against that solid frame as he closed his eyes.

“Hello, you,” rumbled Bond. “I’ve missed you.”

“You’re a git,” Q muttered. “And I’m supposed to be very cross with you.”

“I know,” said Bond. “Forgive me. I really couldn’t tell you that I was tasked to tail you, protect you.”

“And find out if I was a traitor.”

“Yes.”

Q shook his head. “There’s nothing to forgive. That’s our work. And it was all there, right from the beginning, if only I’d looked more closely. Your calling me Q that night, on that lonely road. I thought…well.”

“It was understandable.”

“Hmmm,” said Q. “There’s a lot to learn where you’re concerned.”

Bond smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, let’s get to it. Do you eat, for instance?” Q said, just as the doorbell sounded again.

“Of course.”

“Hainanese chicken and spring rolls?” said Q doubtfully as he returned with a fragrant package.

“With pleasure.”

“And sex?” inquired Q after dinner was over. He looked distinctly famished, in a new way. “I think I’d want lots of it.”

“Lead the way, then,” said Bond, chuckling, as Q took his hand and led him down the corridor and into his bedroom.

The sex was superb—spontaneous, playful and deliciously frantic. Just the way Q adored it. He’d known he would enjoy it immensely, having Bond in his bed. He’d just not expected to be instantly hooked on Bond's impressive proportions and his generous capacity to please.

“I still have so many questions,” said Q as he peppered small kisses down Bond’s clavicle, sated for the time being but getting increasingly talkative. When he got to Bond’s gold pendant, he kissed it, too, reverently.

Bond laughed. “You’re going to be quite a handful, I can see.”

“Have there been many of us?” Q asked. “Your lovers, partners.”

“Whisperers.”

“Is that what you call us?’ Q said, a bit amused.

“Those who have a way with us. Those who are impervious to our charms and who can see us for who we are, yes,” Bond said. “There’s not been a lot. Not for the past thirty years, at least.”

“Oh,” said Q.

“And you don’t need to steal my pendant or bridle to tame me, not when you already have my heart,” said Bond.

“Have I got it, really?” said Q, shyly.

“You know you do, darling.”

“The myths have got it all wrong, then,” murmured Q as he touched the small gold disc lightly with a fingertip, admiring the ancient runes etched onto it.

“I’d like you to keep it safe for me,” said Bond. “When I venture out to track down Trevelyan.”

“Are you sure, James?” said Q. “I thought…your ability to shift—”

“You gave me back that power when you returned the pendant the first time. Keep it. For me.”

Q leaned in to kiss him. “I’d be honoured, James,” he said, “and if it’s alright with you, I’d like to do a bit more whispering now.”

He giggled as Bond reached up to pull him in yet again.

* * *

“Three hostiles,” said Q calmly, “coming from your left, 007.”

“I see them,” said Bond, not slowing down as he ran along a corridor inside Janus’s facility in Saint Petersburg.

Three months, thought Q, and the assignment was finally coming to a head.

“Trevelyan is keeping his distance, but we’re tracking him through the facility,” said Q. “Bond…”

 _Be safe,_ he would have liked to say but couldn’t. Not in the comms.

Yet Bond chuckled, as though he’d heard him loud and clear. “You know I am,” he said.

Q reached up to touch the pendant on his neck, warm from his skin and safely tucked away beneath his shirt and tie.

“I know,” he said, smiling.


End file.
